


Truth or Dare

by squidmemesinc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, M/M, implied college AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidmemesinc/pseuds/squidmemesinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why are you doing laundry right now anyway?”</p><p>“Uh, now is obviously the best time because no one else is doing laundry. And because I want to get drunk! Come with me! Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keptein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/gifts).



> This is for Kep *\o/* 
> 
> This is slightly self-indulgent *\o/*

“Hey, I’m gonna do laundry.”

Tetsurou looks up from the textbook they’ve been trying to read for the last forty-five minutes. “Okay, have fun.” They’re not sure why they’re getting this information until Bokuto points to his overflowing laundry basket, on top of which is sitting a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka.

“Come do laundry with me.” He raises his eyebrows, looks back and forth between Tetsurou and the vodka.

Tetsurou gives him a small, lopsided smile and smooths out the pages of their textbook. “I gotta read this, man.”

Bokuto pouts. “It’s _Friday night_ and it’s 11 PM.”

Tetsurou tries to ignore the point, since it’s been what’s been distracting them as long as they’ve been trying to read. “Why are you doing laundry right now anyway?”

“Uh, now is obviously the best time because no one else is doing laundry. And because I want to get drunk! Come with me! Please.” He puts his hands together and bends at the waist a little, peering up over his fingertips.

Tetsurou bites the inside of their lip lightly. They don’t _really_ want to do homework on a Friday night. True, their grades haven’t been all that great recently, but they do have all weekend to do this. They have a pile of other homework, but…

They sigh and flip the cover of the textbook closed. “Okay.”

“Yessssss!”

**XXX**

Twenty minutes later, they’re both sitting on top of the washing machines passing the bottle between each other.

“I hate this part,” Bokuto says. He sounds sullen, is looking, bored, outside. There’s a breeze coming in from the always-open door, but the running machines keep the inside temperature of the room reasonable. Even if it was a little chilly, Bokuto’s wearing a robe over his pajamas, and Tetsurou has an old hoodie.

“What part?” they ask, turning to him.

“The not being drunk part. We should play a game.” He takes a pensive sip of vodka. “Truth or dare?”

Tetsurou kicks their feet against the washing machine, watching the motion blur their toes, and thinks. Clearly, this is a very important decision. “Truth,” they decide.

He hums. “Dang, I don’t have one. Didn’t think this far ahead.” He looks down at his fuzzy, worn slippers. They have little owl faces on them, with little ear tufts sticking up over his feet. Tetsurou really likes those slippers. “Why did you buy this shitty-ass vodka? It’s so bad.” He makes a face and passes the bottle back to Tetsurou.

They laugh. “Because it was cheap! How is that even a good truth?”

“We’re not so broke that we can’t afford good booze,” Bokuto complains, watching sourly as they take another gulp of it.

“We have good beer. You should have brought the beer.”

He shakes his head. “It’s too hard to carry, and it would take longer to get drunk. Ask me truth or dare.”

“Truth or dare?”

The answer is immediate. “Dare.”

Tetsurou chuckles to theirself. Bokuto always picks dare. He looks at them expectantly. “Okay, uhh… I dare you to… Snort some of the shitty-ass vodka.”

Bokuto groans, and Tetsurou laughs more. “Ughh that’ll hurt so bad, man. How would you even do that?” He looks at the bottle sitting on the dryer between them as if it might have a suggestion (one which he would be unwilling to take).

Tetsurou grins. “Just pour some into the cap and sniff really hard? I dunno, figure it out. You chose dare.”

Bokuto makes a face and unhappily swipes the vodka off the washing machine. He unscrews the cap, disgusted frown deepening, and pours the liquid out into it.

“Put the bottle down,” Tetsurou suggests. Their super probably wouldn’t be too thrilled about an entire shattered bottle of vodka over his laundry room.

Bokuto looks sullen. “I hate you, dude.” He puts the bottle down and lifts the cap to his nose. He winces and moves it away. “This smells so fucking shitty. Ugh. Okay here we go.” He lifts it and there’s the harsh sound of air, a wetter noise, and suddenly Tetsurou is sprayed with liquid because Bokuto has thrown the cap in his general direction. His finger is pressed to his nose and he’s hunched over, moaning loudly. “Jesus _Christ_ holy shit it hurts _so bad_ oh _man!_ ”

Tetsurou is cracking up. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually did it.” There are tears in their eyes, but Bokuto’s are straight up leaking down his cheeks from the pain. He’s sniffling hard, making little gasping noises. Tetsurou feels a little bad, but they know Bokuto will get over it in a bit. They wait, chuckling at their friend’s pain, until he finally composes himself. “Maybe you should have another drink,” they suggest, still smirking.

“ _No._ ” Bokuto sniffs hard, gasps. “You drink.”

They shrug and take another swig from the bottle. Then they hop off the machine for a second to retrieve the thrown cap before returning to their seat. Standing makes them realize they’re already a little drunk; their head is swimming a bit, and their movements are unsteady. That shot straight to the sinuses probably didn’t do anything for Bokuto’s sobriety either. Nice.

“Truth or dare?” Bokuto asks. His eyes are still watering, and it sounds like his nose is running from the way he’s sniffing, but the pain seems to have mostly left him.

“Dare.” This is risky, because Bokuto’s likely to throw their own dare back at them as revenge, but they feel like they’d deserve it, and they can’t just pick truth forever.

“You have your phone?”

They do. Bad vibes. “I’m not pouring vodka on my phone.”

Bokuto snickers. He scoots back on the washing machine and crosses his legs so that Tetsurou can only see the worn down sole of one of the owl slippers. “That’s not the dare. Call Kenma and propose to him.”

“Dude, you’re such an idiot, Kenma won’t fall for that.”

“So you’ve got nothing to lose!”

Testurou rolls their eyes and digs into their pocket. Kenma won’t be asleep; he’s probably playing some game, and interrupting that is probably going to be worse. This won’t go over well at all. They dial the number anyway. Maybe Kenma won’t answer. That would really be ideal.

No dice. “ _Kuroo_.” It’s said matter-of-factly. Kenma checks his caller ID, like any normal person.

How are they even going to do this? “Hey Kenma, how’s it going?” they start casually. They text each other frequently enough, but Tetsurou rarely calls Kenma, so this is likely regarded as strange.

“ _Why are you calling me this late? I was doing something._ ”

“Playing a game?”

“ _Yeah._ ” There’s a pause. “ _Why did you call?_ ”

Bokuto, meanwhile, is looking on excitedly. Tetsurou knows he can hear everything; it’s quiet in their apartment complex this late at night. Bokuto mouths, _Come on_ , and makes a hurrying motion with his hands.

Tetsurou clears their throat. “Um, well, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.” They pause, but Kenma doesn’t answer. They think they can hear video game sounds coming through the phone. This is so embarrassing. “I was thinking about all the time we spent together, and how much I’ve been missing you, and stuff. And, uh…” They’re drunk, but not drunk enough for this. It’s so stupid. They no longer feel sorry for making Bokuto snort shitty vodka. Physical pain like that fades, but embarrassment will stay with you for longer.

Bokuto’s looking on expectantly. Kenma still isn’t saying anything. Tetsurou restrains a sigh. Whatever, this is just a prank. Kenma probably already knows they’re drunk.

“I think we should get married,” they blurt out as casually as they can.

Kenma doesn’t say anything for ten seconds. For ten seconds, there’s static, the sound of the looping video game music. Then the line clicks. Tetsurou looks at their phone in disbelief. “He hung up.”

Bokuto bursts out laughing. “Oh man, you are _so awkward_.”

“Shut up, man! You know I used to have a crush on him.”

This sobers him up pretty fast. “What?”

“Yeah, for a little bit,” Tetsurou admits uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve told you before.”

“When?”

“I don’t know, in high school.”

“No, when did you have a crush on him?”

“Oh. Middle school. And a little bit in high school. Before I met you.”

He grins a little at that.

Someone walks in, carrying a laundry basket. Someone tall, with short, curly blonde hair and glasses.

“Yooo, Tsukki!” Bokuto calls, waving from the laundry machine.

“What are you idiots doing in here?” he asks, pausing in front of him. His eyes fall on the bottle of vodka. “Wow.”

“You want some?” Tetsurou offers, revealing their best grin.

“You’re really getting drunk in the laundry room? Don’t you have any class?”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Bokuto says. He leans back on the washing machine. “Sitting on these things when you’re drunk is fun. It makes your ass all tingly.” He giggles.

Tsukishima moves over to the washing machine farthest from them.

“Tsukki, truth or dare?” Tetsurou asks.

“Fuck off.”

“That wasn’t one of the options,” Bokuto says.

“I’m not playing.”

“It was worth a try,” Tetsurou says, shrugging. “Bokuto, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” He always picks dare.

Tetsurou is distracted by Tsukishima attempting to put his laundry into the machines with as little interaction with them as possible. He’s just trying too hard. “You know I dared him to snort vodka and he did it?” they tell the newcomer.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Tsukishima mutters. Bokuto sniffs, but is smiling. He’s over it; now it’s just another fun war story.

The buzzer goes off on Bokuto’s laundry, then Tetsurou’s a few seconds later. They both scramble off the washers and start moving their clothes into dryers. This is more difficult to do drunk than sober; they keep dropping socks, underwear, and Bokuto almost faceplants on the floor trying to pick his up, which just makes Tetsurou laugh and almost drop his whole load.

Bokuto climbs back onto the washing machine after he gets his clothes safely transferred, but Tetsurou stays standing, enjoying the way he feels like they could fall over at any second.

“Okay, what’s the dare?”

Tetsurou puts one foot in front of the other, slowly traversing the small laundry room. They’re too drunk to do this safely, which is what makes it fun. “I dare you…to lick… To lick…” They stagger and nearly fall looking around for a suitable item to lick. After regaining their balance, they right theirself with a flourish and spin their arms around to point at Tsukishima. “Lick Tsukki.”

Tsukishima is done sorting his laundry into separate machines. He picks up his basket and moves towards the door. “If either of you come within a meter of me, I will punch you.” And then he’s gone, and Bokuto and Tetsurou are cracking up.

“I need another dare. I’m not chasing after him. I think he would actually punch me.” Bokuto’s sitting knocking his feet against the washing machine again.

Tetsurou spins around to face him and hums. “Let me think a second.” They try to think, but nothing is coming to mind other than how cute Bokuto looks right now in his little owl slippers, smiling goofily, surely drunk enough now to where he’s not bored. Tetsurou takes a step forward. “I dare you…to stay right there.”

Bokuto stays, and Tetsurou keeps moving forward. In only three steps, they’re up against the washer, putting their hands on Bokuto’s thighs, leaning in towards him. Bokuto’s grinning lazily, no doubt having caught on to what the dare really is by now.

Their lips meet faster than Tetsurou planned; the space wasn’t as big as they thought. But then the contact is the only point of reference either of them need. Bokuto’s mouth opens under the pressure of Tetsurou’s tongue, and his hands move up to their hair. They hum into his mouth, slicking their tongue under his tongue, flicking the tip across his teeth, catching his lip. Bokuto bites back, catching Tetsurou’s tongue, making them groan quietly. There’s an insistent tug at their hair that they barely feel through the haze of the alcohol.

They kiss for a while. The little wet sounds of their tongues and lips meeting are audible above the hum of the dryers, the dull sound of their clothes being tossed around. The taste of the cheap vodka is erased by the exchange of hormones.

At some point, Tetsurou’s hands move to Bokuto’s sides, and they pull him to the edge of the washing machine so their torsos are flush together. Bokuto’s legs wrap around Tetsurou’s hips, and he rolls his own against them. Tetsurou groans into his mouth and grinds back on him. They’re rocking together as they kiss furiously, losing track of which way is up behind closed eyes and under the influence. All Tetsurou knows is Bokuto is warm, his mouth is wet and inviting, his hands tugging at their hair makes them spin just a little faster, or maybe that’s the hormones.

Bokuto breaks away from the kiss first, leaning his head against Tetsurou’s. “Let’s go back,” he says, quietly, almost sounding sober, but being far from it.

“What about our laundry?” Tetsurou asks, even though they don’t care.

“We can get it later. Let’s go back.”

“D’you think I could carry you?” If they weren’t drunk, they could, but now it’s more of a challenge.

Bokuto smiles. “Dare you to.”


End file.
